


Forgotten

by LadyFrandrews



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Gen, deals with suicide, do not take this lightly, there aren't enough warnings for me to use to portray this fact, there is no nice way of saying that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-23
Updated: 2013-05-23
Packaged: 2017-12-12 18:30:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/814656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyFrandrews/pseuds/LadyFrandrews
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's always so tragic when one takes their own life; so many questions are left unanswered. Family and friends don't know what to do while everyone else goes on day-to-day; everyone else didn't know you like your friends and family did/do. Their world stops the moment they find you, or find out you're dead.</p><p>What happens when Frank can see just what he did to those around him? What happens when the one person he overlooked could've been the one to help save him? The one person to tell him the truth, about everything--causing even more pain then when he was alive.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Forgotten

**Author's Note:**

> If you want a slight preface to this read the note at the end. Just be warned, do not read this lightly, it's not a light read.

I was so certain this was what I wanted. I was certain that everything would be better, nothing would matter anymore. I didn’t think about anyone but myself—I always was the selfish one. Then again, I never thought I mattered much to anyone in the first place.  
  
I wanted it to end—the pain, the constant name calling and teasing—that’s why I did it. I was different, that’s the only thing they had against me. I didn’t conform, not like the rest of them. They won’t miss me, at least I don’t think; they’ll just add names to the never-ending list they already have.  
  
I wanted it to stop; all this crying, those tears that were falling for me—I didn’t deserve them. I don’t deserve to be mourned. I’m nothing special; a stupid kid who had one too many bad things happen. I was a failure. I couldn’t do anything right and I was always the target for torment by my peers.  
  
I wasn’t sure why I could see what was happening to my family and friends; I didn’t mean for this to happen—well, yes I did. I thought they didn’t care. I thought they’d be better off without me. For three days now my mother hasn’t left her bed and my father hasn’t stopped drinking.  
  
They have to know it’s not their fault—I’m the one to blame. This was my choice, it was what I wanted. I wasn’t ever going to amount to anything. My father and teachers constantly told me that much. The only two who remotely believed I could possibly amount to anything was my mother and guidance counselor.  
  
Since I could witness my parents, I knew I could go and see my best friend—I couldn’t. I didn’t want to see what I’ve done to him. I couldn’t stand haunting my house any longer though, watching the rapid destruction of the people my parents used to be. I have to go and see him eventually though.  
  
I chose to go to my grave instead. It’s surreal, standing over your own; seeing that overpriced, polished stone, your carved name staring you in the face, mocking you—showing you how pathetic you truly are. I noticed a figure approaching; the first time since my funeral.  
  
I couldn’t make out who it was till they came and knelt down right beside where I stood. I could only stare in awe as I watched their hand reach out and trace the letters of my name. Their breaths broken by sobs and sniffles and occasionally the other hand would reach up and wipe away the tears I couldn’t see.  
  
“You’re an idiot, I hope you know that. I hope you’re happier now, wherever you are. I don’t know how no one else saw how unhappy you were…I just…I wish I had said something to someone, even if just to my brother…he’d have done something to help you through whatever it was you were going through.”  
  
I knew that voice and I knew that face. I was shocked to see him here; I’d never have expected to see him again. He wiped at his face once again, letting out a demented chuckle.  
  
“You know, he, he blames himself…everyone does actually. Your parents, the kids at school—they’re the worst. They think that if they had lightened up or stopped with the teasing, they think, they think you wouldn’t have done this. But you’d have done it anyway, you were stubborn. You stuck to your mind and you never backed down…this time, this time so many people wish you had…I wish you had.”  
  
I reached up to my cheek, tears, I was crying. Here was this boy who never wanted to be noticed by others, he, he noticed everything about everyone else. I didn’t want everyone to blame themselves, they didn’t do anything. The boy in front of me, he’s my best friend’s brother—I wanted him to shut up. My best friend was not at fault, the kids at school aren’t even to blame.  
  
“I, I know we were never that close but I did see you every day. The night, the night you…the night you committed suicide—I refuse to use another word for what you did—I had the feeling…as I watched you walk out the door, tossing a small smile and a wave over your shoulder, that was the last time I was ever going to see you. It was.”  
  
He let out another sad chuckle and wiped at his nose.  
  
“When the phone rung, we, we…we weren’t expecting that. When Ma…when she just dropped to her knees and the phone to the floor, the tears…she loved you…we all did.”  
  
Those last three words were a mere whisper, but I heard them. He traced my name once more before pulling up his jacket sleeves. The lower portions of his arms were littered with scars. I was shocked. He was the one that always seemed so together, the one that would never break—he was always the strong one. But here he was in front of me showing me his weakness, his flaw, his humanity.  
  
“We were more alike than you knew. I’ll always admire you for your ability to actually leave this place…I’ve tried…quite a few times. Failing obviously; I never used a sure-fire method. Pills and razors can only do so much damage. I, I’m terrified of guns and I don’t know, I’ve thought of hanging myself, but I, I never could think of a proper place…not like you.”  
  
A small sob broke through the air again and his hands wiped at his eyes. He pulled his sleeves back down and glanced around the cemetery. I was intruding on a speech, a personal moment, sure it was for me, but I don’t think I was actually ever supposed to hear it.  
  
“You know, when, when Ma finally told us what happened…Mikes, he, he bolted out of the house. I knew he was going to yours. I followed…mostly out of my own curiosity. You were always there, always smiling, always laughing—always happy. For the longest time it was genuine…then one day, one day it wasn’t so pure anymore….you never told him what changed. I don’t think he ever noticed. Your happy persona, was it just for him? He’d have done anything for you.”  
  
I felt myself nodding dumbly in response. I didn’t want to burden my best friend with something like this; I ended up doing something much worse. His sniffling had slowed to an almost stop but he kept wiping at his eyes. He was staring hard at my tombstone, a thoughtful expression on his face.  
  
“I’ve never seen that many flashing lights before. An ambulance, a fire-truck and four cop cars…we heard your mom’s screams.”  
  
I remember that. I hadn’t ever seen that many lights either and they were all for me. I remember her screams as they cut me down from the rafter in the living room, my body making a disturbing thud as it hit the floor. A police officer restrained her, she wanted to hold me. She fought so hard to get out of his grasp. She screamed, sobbed and desperately pleaded for him to let her hold me one last time.  
  
“The neighbors were all out, crowding your yard—we lived in suburbia, everyone knew everything about everyone. Some murmured, some whispered, some remained silent, just watching. Your dad had to fight through the gathered crowd and then argued briefly with two cops before he was let in his own house.”  
  
That gut-wrenching noise that came out of him when he came into the living room disturbed me. They were loading my body into a black bag but his eyes were locked on the remainder of the small cord still hanging from the rafter. My mother escaped the cop’s grasp and rushed to my dad’s side. They simply clung to each other, fallen to the floor—unmoving.  
  
“Mikes, he, he lost it when they brought out that black bag…he screamed and then kept shaking his head…like that’d make it all go away…he clung to me and at one point I was the only thing holding him up…Ma rushed forward, begging to see your mom and dad…the cop relented and she went in.”  
  
She froze, just like my dad, when she saw the cord swaying from the rafter. She glanced around for my parents, finding them she rushed to their side. She pulled them into her arms and offered useless words of comfort. My mom kept muttering why over and over and my dad couldn’t look away from the cord. I glanced back down at the boy sitting on my grave, his eyes looked haunted—had I done that to him?  
  
“The police asked everyone to return home after they loaded you in the ambulance. Mikes and me, we just stood there as the crowd slowly walked back to their homes. A cop asked us to leave and I told him our mom was inside. He just gave us a sympathetic look and led us up your lawn to the house.”  
  
Mikey wouldn’t even go inside; he stopped right on the doorstep. His no is what made me realize that there had been people outside. I walked away from my parents to the front door; the tears that streamed down his face, the way his chest heaved with each breath and the sorrow in his eyes—it tore me in two. That’s why I haven’t brought myself to see him at home, if I did that to him that night, how was he now?  
  
“I walked right in; you were eccentric, I was expecting a big, bloody mess not the cord that hung so simply from the ceiling. The air in the house was thick with overwhelming misery. You murdered yourself—how do you get that low? I mean…I, I know I said…I know I said I envy you for succeeding, but I guess what bothers me the most, I’ve never seen you shed a tear, let alone a frown.”  
  
I wanted to stop them all from hurting; I wasn’t happier, I was the furthest from it. If I wasn’t already dead, I think I’d kill myself again—running away was not the answer though. This proved it. Suicide was not the answer. I should’ve talked to my parents, my best friend—someone, anyone. Now it’s too late, I can’t go back. I’ll never grow old, I’ll never marry; I ruined everyone’s lives by taking my own. I never thought about the consequences—not once.  
  
“Your viewing was strange; you looked like you were sleeping in a coffin—something you said you’d always wanted to do. You got your wish. If it wasn’t disrespectful to you, I’d have yelled at some of those kids that showed up. Most of them were the ones that threw so many ruthless taunts your way; they don’t deserve your forgiveness. I hope you don’t give it to them.”  
  
I wish I could’ve yelled too. They did mean it though, they were sorry. Bullies are bullies though, it’s what they do. I stared at the boy in front me, recalling how he was in the shadows of every memory I was having. I never paid attention to him and I never realized he paid that much attention to me.  
  
“No one knows I’m here, they all think I’m sleeping. Ma’s worried, says your parents don’t answer the phone or the door; it stays locked. She knows how guilty they must feel, how they wish they could’ve done things differently. Paid more attention to you, told you they loved you, showed you they knew you existed. Is it lonely where you are? Are you truly happier? Would you take it all back?”  
  
He let out a broken laugh and shook his head. I hate that me killing myself is what finally caused my parents to notice I still existed. I’m alone, very alone. It’s disturbing how alone I am. My life, watching it, it mocks me. I can see everyone I ever cared about anytime I want to—showing me what I gave up. I’m no where close to happy, not till I meet them again. I’m not sure if I would take it all back though. If this didn’t happen I still wouldn’t know my parents care, my best friend would still be oblivious and the boy in front of me, he’d still remain in the shadows. He knows more about me than I do about myself. If I was given a second chance knowing just what I do in these past few days, I’d like to think I’d tell him yes. Yes, I’d take it all back, have a second chance. I know that’s not how life works though; we’ve got one shot—I ended mine before it truly began.  
  
“I’d like to think we’d have been good friends, not the best, that place will always be my brother’s, but we’d have been good friends. We never gave the other a chance—I wish I had. I almost said something the night you left—almost. I don’t blame myself, I doubt I could’ve changed your mind; you always were the determined one, never backed down. I’ve, I came to say my own goodbye, an honest one.”  
  
He moved to his knees, and then stood up, staring down his nose at my stone. The whole time he’s been here that’s all he’s looked at, with the exception of the a few glances around the cemetery. He brushed himself off as he spoke his next words. Words that hurt, but spoke the ultimate truth; he just shoved his hands into his pockets and gave me his final goodbye.  
  
“You’re a suicide; you’ll be forgotten in a few months. They’ll forget that spastic kid in their class, but they’ll remember you years later. They’ll remember when someone finally pushes their buttons too hard, too far, with words that hurt them to the core like they did to you. They’ll feel guilt, remorse for aiding such a tragedy. Then they’ll blink and be back to the sadistic bastards they are. You’ll only cross their minds when they’re reminded of the pain they caused you, but only then and never for very long.”  
  
I moved to right in front of him, his breath showing in the cold air surrounding me. His eyes darted around as if searching for something. He let out a small chuckle before tears fell down his cheeks again. I wanted him to stop talking, I didn’t want to know the truth—I would mean nothing to everyone but my parents and friends. I was a nobody, and nobodies were forgotten.  
  
“My brother will never forget you, but he’ll move on. He’ll find another best friend. Ma and your parents, them too, they’ll move on. They’ll find ways to remember you without it hurting. They’ll wake up one day and the thought of your missed smile, your laugh, it won’t hurt them anymore. They’ll be fond of your memory, no longer desperate for a tie to hold on to you. They will move on.”  
  
He closed his eyes as tears still fell. The emotions flittering across his face let me know he was fighting himself to say or not say what was on his mind. He was right though, one day they’ll move on, they won’t hurt anymore, well just not so much. He took a few steps forward and brushed his fingers along the top of my stone. He took a deep breath before speaking his final thoughts.  
  
“I fought so hard to deny it, tried so hard not to get attached. It’s too late, but I have to tell you for myself—I love you. I don’t feel any better telling you, you can’t hear me, or say it back. You can’t even tell me how you feel or why you did what you did. Just, just let go. Let go for our sakes; they say some people hang around, please don’t. It’ll only make it worse on you. We’re human, we’ll adapt, we’ll learn to cope—we have each other.”  
  
He brought two of his fingers up to his lips and then gently placed them on my stone. He took a deep breath and wiped his cheeks. He whispered a small goodbye before turning and walking towards the gate. He was right though, I needed to let go. I needed to take responsibility for my actions. I watched his retreating figure for as long as I could make out his body till he disappeared into the shadows and darkness.  
  
I felt myself fade into nothingness—truly to be forgotten. I became lost in this huge black abyss of others who had done just what I had. Others who were so lost they thought death was the only way out—it’s not. I’ve learned that the hard way. Life is a test and I gave up, just like so many others. I was a quitter. I took the easy way out. I gave in to the one thing that made things anything but easier and gave up on the one thing that could save me—myself.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this in 2008 when I was dealing with my own struggles of suicide. Instead of acting upon my thoughts I wrote them down and turned them into this. The warnings of character death and violence are there, mostly for caution, and to really let you know that this isn't something to read lightly. The feedback I got on this from Mibba (where I first posted it) astounded me. 
> 
> I was told by these people, mostly teens and young adults from all over the world that this story changed them, some even said it saved them. One compared it to being inspirational, second only to the "I have a dream" speech. I doubted that, but if that's what these words mean to her, who was I to say otherwise? A lot of the comments are thank yous for sharing it, for letting them know that suicide is not the answer. I even had one print it out and share it with her group of friends because two of them were dealing with these ideations--it helped them. 
> 
> I'm not looking for attention; I'm merely sharing this again, in another mode of being able to share. Suicide is something that my county here at home has been dealing with in quite a large number these past three years. I've lost people to suicide. I know people who chose suicide. I've been there myself—a few times. It's not something I take lightly, but if I have a means of helping with my words, then that's what I'll do. So that being said, if you want to keep it for yourself or share with someone, by all means, go ahead and share this.


End file.
